


Closer

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitchen floor smut, based on a Nine Inch Nails song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).
> 
> \----
> 
> Disclaimer: Bla bla yada yada not real. I disclaim.  
>  Warnings: Um, mild mention of clichéd bondage, a bit o angst. Vague somewhat bitter mention of het relationship. The usual from me. *laughs*  
>  A/N: I shamelessly gacked the title from Nine Inch Nails. Yes, any words in italics are lyrics. I don’t own the song either. Um. Hmm, is this a songfic? Dunno. This is indeed porn for esothilas who was nice enough to give me brownies for porn. Hope you like dearie. Speshil thanks to chrisita who was kind enough to beta despite a bitchy ISP.  
>  Feedback: Is used in therapy to assure the doc I'm OK.

 

The tile on his back sent icy chills tap dancing up his spine and back down again, in sync with the thrumming of his heart and the subtle rocking of his hips. Subtle rocking that was in sync with the unintelligible humming that was reverberating on his thigh.

One Billy Boyd was the source of said humming.

The quiet of the house, save for their erratic breathing and the muffled music tinkling from Dom’s bedroom filled the room, and threatened to swallow them whole. Dom closed his eyes against the impending doom.

 _“Help me tear down my reason, help me, it's your sex I can smell.”_ He palmed Dom’s belly, until his fingers gathered at the waist of his jeans, digging in.

Dom rocked his hips again in anticipation, until Billy stopped murmuring, and shot him a warning glare. How much Bill honestly thought Dom was capable of doing was beyond him, as his mobility was severely handicapped by the handcuffs that were digging into his freckled skin, gleaming maliciously at him. Gritting his teeth, Dom relaxed his hips, commanding his back to flatten, and his cock to stop throbbing so fucking much. He took a few cleansing breaths.

“Good lad,” Billy whispered gentle as a fluff of cloud, while his hands pawed at the fly of Dom’s jeans.

He waited several beats for Billy to do something, to say something and just as he lifted his head to look, his cock was wrapped in liquid velvet, hot and dangerous. The surface of Bill’s tongue caressed the underside of Dom’s cock, inch by inch, pulling up and away until Billy’s mouth was gone, and Dom’s head slammed against the tile roughly. He wanted to take his hands, which were trembling, and rest them on the pale spikes of Billy’s hair, but when he motioned to tug and do so, he remembered the cuffs, though too late, and the table he was attached too scraped across the floor an inch or so, the wood whining loudly.

Billy didn’t flinch.

Instead, he lapped the damp head of Dom’s cock, his eyes flashing.

 _“I want to fuck you like an animal.”_ He went down again, thin lips sliding over the engorged flesh, and the sight of his cock disappearing then reappearing again made Dom’s eyes roll back. Bill continued his ministrations, his small hands cupping Dom’s balls, which were coiled tight, flushed, and mottled deep red and purple.

Dom lay there, eyes closed, breathing through his nose, hissing from time to time, but never crying out, as Billy’s lips continued to join his tongue in an all out assault on him. He fell into a lull, feeling only the wethot of Billy, the distant throb of the music in his room. But he was uncomfortable too, his arms stretched a bit too far in a position that forced his muscles to flex and taunt, then tremble from over exertion. His legs felt constricted from the bunched up jeans at his ankles, and his throat was dry.

If it wasn’t for the mouth on his cock he would have been quite put out.  
  
Then, thank all the gods, he felt it, that delicious tingle in his lower back, that radiated to the front of his belly, slow like honey.

“God yes,” he hissed, and arched, a groan rumbling deep in his throat.

Billy looked up at him, and pulled back slightly, the corners of his lips curled in a grin. He went down again, his hand gripping the base of his cock and squeezing hard, until Dom cried out in a mix of painpleasure. He was so close he could feel his release humming at the base of his cock, nudging that space just behind the black plastic cock ring that was resting in the nest of dark hair. Bill pulled away, his lips parting from the skin with an audible pop, and his fingers moved high to touch the ring gently. For a wild moment Dom thought Bill would pull it off, fast and rough has he had snatched it from his wrist and attached it onto Dom, but this was not to be. Instead Bill simply brushed his fingers atop the dull plastic, a buffed nail sliding down and disturbing the hair, before reconnecting with Dom’s cock for a few more deft strokes.

“Bill, please…“ Dom breathed, so close, he was burning now, and sweat had gathered on the valleys of his torso where muscle gave way to bone.

Bill was completely unfazed, and showed more interest in fondling him.

He bent down, and with a lick of his lips and a firm nudge, lifted Dom’s hips, and traced his tongue on the puckered line of skin that ran from the base of his balls, up, until he found his cock, where the terrain changed from coiled yet pliant, to silky and solid.

“Jesus, Bill…“ Dom squirmed again, legs parting to allow better access, despite the throb that pounded in his temples and against the cock ring.

“Dommie,” he purred, in a tone that commanded patience, teeth scraping at the base of his cock leisurely.

Dom squirmed, the silent debate continuing, as Dom’s eyes screamed in protest.

Bill chuckled, used to Dom’s hasty nature, and trailed a white hot path of torture up, until his teeth connected with a pert nipple.

“You taste so good, Dom. Like sunshine and butter, and sin,” he murmured against Dom’s clavicle, his eyes flashing with guilt for half a moment, before he chased the demon away with a soft kiss to Dom’s skin.

“Want you, Bill,” Dom whispered his voice reduced to a plea. He worried his eyebrows, and tilted his head, until his breath disturbed the damp hair that clung to Bill’s forehead.

 _“I want to feel you from the inside.”_ Bill leaned forward, mouthing the song against Dom’s open lips, before pulling away slowly.

“Yes, now,” Dom rumbled, his hips rolling again disobediently.

Bill shot him a warning look, but Dom didn’t obey.

Bill dug his fingers into the peaks of Dom’s hips, until he was still, but defiance rolled off Dom, hanging above them like a dark rain cloud. Rebellion flashed in his eyes, hot and clear.

Billy bit into a speckled shoulder, hard, until teeth marks bloomed, and then he pushed up and away.

“Wanker,” Billy murmured, as he voice faded.

Dom lay still, unfazed. He knew Bill would return.

Eventually, Dom began to worry. A minute passed then another and he heard no sound of Bill’s return. His cock ached, and his back was fucking freezing. For a moment the thought of Bill leaving him, exposed and cuffed to the table skittered across his mind, but he tossed it aside roughly.

Billy was a sadistic fuck, but he had his limits.

The music faded, stopped, and then began anew, but still no sound of Bill.

He began to get worried.

Things south of the border had gone from uncomfortable to unbearable, and the very thought of Billy returning to relive him made his cock throb in a gesture that would have been a twitch, if he could move.

Still Billy didn’t return.

Sweat began to pour down the valley of his back, dripping onto the tile and pooling there, adding wet to his list of discomfort, and he wiggled unhappily, longing for a change in the air, a distraction, _something._

When his pride left for an extended vacation, he decided to call him.

He was subtle at first, soft, questioning, and sure the desperation in his voice was sufficiently veiled. But when Bill didn’t answer, but rather shuffled about in the room, Dom grew angry, and desperate.

“Billy please, please come back! Bills!” He wailed, and continued with his mantra, occasionally adding “fuck” to the request, or a growl of frustration.

He received no reply.

“God damn it all Billy, get your arse out here,” he bellowed, all patience and pretense gone, his body taunt and boiling with too many wants and irks to articulate, and at last Bill returned.

He had a bottle of lube in his hand.

“The hell took you so long?” Dom snarled.

“I got…distracted,” Bill replied, his eyes looking off into a different direction. A pang of jealously he was all too familiar with stung in Dom’s chest, but he tossed it aside, reminding himself that Bill was _here_ , and a hop skip and thrust away from fucking him.

Where he belonged.

Once Dom was free of the bothersome jeans that pooled at his ankles, Bill’s hands again wrapped around Dom’s cock, now welcome after several minutes of neglect, and Billy began a lazy pace that made Dom’s pulse race a bit. Then, strong fingers snaked down until they probed his opening gently and began to stretch him. He squirmed with impatience, and hissed for Billy to take him without preparation.

“No,” Billy answered, his voice firm, as he added a second finger to the assault.

“Why? I can take it I’ve done it before…”

“Because I’ll hurt you,” he replied, and the bitter rebuttal Dom had lined up fluttered away, when he took in the soft expression on his face.

If he didn’t know better, he’d call it love.

The moment passed as briefly as he began, as Bill settled himself between Dom’s legs, pulling the toned limbs up to accommodate him. The position was almost painful, as Dom’s inner thighs were being stretched just a bit beyond his comfort zone, but he didn’t cry out.

“Aren’t you glad you do all that yoga, Dommie,” he leered, as he guided himself in, and then rested slick hands on the front of Dom’s calves.

Dominic’s reply was swallowed up and replaced as Billy thrust roughly, his weight pressing down and out on Dom’s legs until _ohfuckyes_. Each stroke pressed on his legs, pulling his thighs apart, and nudging his cock up, until he was rubbing against the soft hair on Bill’s belly, smearing a wet trail. He arched his back, humming with content, pleased to be stretched, pulled, and pushed as he was. He was on the footsteps of heaven.

“We always end up like this, don’t we Dommie,” he breathed against Dom’s neck, his voice tight.

Dom turned his head, his only path to avoid Bill’s intent stare. He couldn’t do this now, speculate about the how, the why, and if. He just wanted to feel this, and take it for what is was worth.

“You think too much, Bill.”

“You don’t think enough, Dom. Always take things in a stride.”

He pulled out until he was just barely inside, and thrust again roughly.

“What should I do?” Dom groaned, and inhaled through his teeth.

“Stop taking it. Start making demands.” Bill lapped at the base of Dom’s throat, and rocked his hips slowly and erratically, as if he was drunk.

Dom bit his lip, and shook his head. He was hesitant to use his voice.

“You’re so…” Bill seemed to deliberate over his next words, _“My existence is so flawed.”_ He kissed Dom’s taunt bicep. _“You get me closer to god.”_

Dom grinned, recognizing the song still, and rolled his hips up, to scrape against his belly. Bill pulled back, fingers digging into his calves, and reduced his speed to a crawl.

 _“Through every forest, above the trees. Within my stomach, scraped off my knees.”_ He shifted, as if his knees heard him and began to complain. His voice was low and gravelly, in the space between singing and speaking. He paused for a moment, leaning close to Dom, and Dom inhaled, savoring the scent of their sex, metal, and wood. When Billy kissed him, he could smell himself on Bill’s stubble, and the reminder of where his mouth had been made Dom moan involuntarily.

He was beyond close.

“Bill, I need to-“

Billy rocked against him, hips grinding against Dom’s as his hand clamped down on Dom’s cock, repeatedly teasing the orgasm that was lapping at the base of Dom’s spine. He pushed Dom, pushed his legs, until they were pushed so far his knees were brushing his shoulders, and the complaint of his thighs was almost as insistent as the howling of his cock, constricted and beyond ready for release and why wouldn’t Billy just fucking let him go already?

Billy ignored his silent plea.

 _“I drink the honey inside your hive.”_ Sharp teeth shone as he nipped at Dom’s bottom lip.

“Sweet,” he murmured, and began to pick up his pace, until he was pounding so roughly, Dom’s arms jerked, and the table rocked and would scrape on the floor occasionally.

He jerked three more times, solidly nudging Dom’s prostate, until the sensation was overwhelming, and Dom came frantically, wet against their bellies. Regret flashed in Dom’s eyes, realizing Bill had not given the command, but that concern was dashed as he realized from the weak and sated look in Billy’s face, that the man never allowed for anything to happen without his consent.

Bill leaned over him, easily reaching the keys that lie next to the leg of the table, and he unlocked the cuffs, and pulled them off. As he rubbed the angry red welts on Dom’s wrists, he kissed them, before briefly massaging Dom’s sore biceps. Bill used the pant leg on Dom’s jeans to clean them, and while Dom would have been content to lie on the cold floor for hours, but Bill would have none of it, as he pulled the pair up, and they stumbled into the messy bad for a well deserved nap.

They collapsed, tangled around one another, and Dom buried his face into the crook on Bill’s shoulder, sighing. Bill ran his hand over the sticky damp tangle of Dom’s hair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, as they pair dozed off.

_“You are the reason I stay alive.”_

Bill’s soft murmur was the last thing Dom knew, before he fell asleep.


End file.
